


Mac Dines Out

by doriangay



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Bedsharing, Coming Out, Episode: s08e09 The Gang Dines Out, Guiginos, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, kinda. like emotionally, rcg work fast but oliver works faster and sleeps less, s14, yes this is me connecting dines out to the bed pic why do u ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 07:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19290997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doriangay/pseuds/doriangay
Summary: Did you ever know that you're my hero, And everything I would like to be?Because Mac was bad with words, and this would always put him and Dennis at a crossroads. Dennis was a man of speeches and conversations and secrets whispered into the dark, whilst Mac was a man of action and gifts and long interpretive dances - he didn’t do words, he’d always relied on Dennis for that. And now they were lying together on a filthy mattress, connected, each desperately trying to communicate in a language that was foreign to the other.





	Mac Dines Out

**Author's Note:**

> heyy so this is something i just banged out on an all nighter, pretty sure this constitutes some kind of mental breakdown but its all good! anyway, please enjoy this tragedy inspired by a heartbreaking post by @araki-iasip on tumblr (idk how to embed links on here lol!)  
> (i edited this on 0 sleep sorry for and grammar errors)

It was a Friday night and Guigino’s was busy as usual - the buzz of relaxed couples and families enjoying their meals faded into the back of Mac’s mind as he gazed at his date.

“-and that is why I can never go back to that gym!” The man was saying, waving his hands as he spoke. He was cute, and Mac was thankful that his first ever Grindr date had turned out to be a relatively normal person, but something didn’t feel right. He was bored and couldn’t focus - it was as though there was a part of his brain telling him he didn’t want to be there, that he wasn’t quite ready yet.

Mac realised too late that he was supposed to be laughing at his date’s story; he forced a smile, “wow, that’s crazy, Daniel!”

“David.”

“Oh, sorry, man.” Well, he’d fucked that one up.

David smiled at Mac, obviously a little irritated, before shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth. Mac winced, remembering how Dennis had schooled him on table manners the first time they’d ever gone out for a fancy meal like this - rule number one had been to always take small bites, as it was the only polite way to eat.

 

Mac’s attention was drawn away from his date by his phone buzzing in his pocket; with no regard for Drew - or whatever his name was - Mac grabbed his phone and stared at it eagerly. He felt a little guilty for being as relieved as he was to see a message from Dennis.

“IS HE UGLY?” The message read. Mac rolled his eyes, sneaking a glance at the man in front of him.

He tapped back a quick response, “NO!” Before snapping a covert picture and sending it to Dennis, who immediately left him on read. Mac smirked; it felt like a victory, for some reason.

 

They continued to eat in silence for a few minutes more before David attempted to break the ice, “so,” he said, waving his fork at Mac, “the food’s good here, huh? How did you find out about this place?”

“Oh, I used to come here with- well, I used to come here a lot.”

David gave him a knowing smile, “oh, so this is where you bring all your dates?”

There was some kind of commotion behind him that Mac desperately wanted to use to avoid the question, but he stood his ground, “no,” he said firmly, “no, just my friends.”

“Right.” A nod and a wink, this guy was insufferable! Mac looked away, glancing back down at his phone; Dennis still hadn’t replied, but that was nothing new. He’d been awfully silent recently, both over text and in real life. It was as though he had nothing to say to Mac nowadays.

Though, Mac had to admit he’d been talkative earlier. After finding out about Mac’s date from Dee, he’d spent the entire afternoon interrogating him, trying to squeeze out any information he could from Mac; the man’s age, what he looked like, where he lived. Mac had given nothing away, determined not to let Dennis ruin the night for him.

 

Daniel - or, perhaps his name was Dominic, was looking over Mac’s shoulder, frowning, “hey, what’s going on over there?” He asked.

Mac turned around and realised, with a jolt, that the commotion behind him was being caused by a familiar figure. Dennis was arguing loudly with a waiter, gesturing and stomping his feet; he looked a mess, his usually smart clothes replaced with a plain hoodie and sweatpants, and his cheeks stained with what Mac could only guess was mascara. A pit formed in his stomach. Of course Dennis was here to sabotage his date. He should have known it was going to happen - he insisted that he didn’t want Mac, but he couldn’t stand seeing him happy with someone else, it was all so typical.

“Mac?” His date said, nudging his foot under the table, “everything alright?”

“Yeah, I-” Mac shuffled out of his way, “I think I know that guy.”

“You think? Damn, I really hope you’re wrong - for your sake, that is.”

A moment of nervous silence passed between them, “yeah, me too.”

 

Mac turned back around, only to see Dennis finally managing to push past the waiter and make a beeline for their table. In a complete panic, Mac stood up, locking eyes with him and shaking his head. “No,” he mouthed softly, “no, Dennis, no.”

But it seemed that Dennis wasn’t heading for Mac’s table after all, he made a sharp turn at the last minute and all but crashed into the piano. Mac winced and watched in horror as Dennis fumbled with a microphone, well aware of the damage he was able to do with an audience.

“Is this thing on?” Dennis asked, wincing as he was met with feedback, “fuck, yeah it’s on it’s-” he stumbled, grabbing the piano for support.

“So, you know this guy?” Mac’s date asked. What a stupid question - of course Mac knew him, he knew him better than anyone else in the entire world. And he knew when he was about to do something very very stupid. He put a hand up to quiet his date and turned his full attention to Dennis.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to make a toast,” Dennis started, slurring his words so badly that even Mac struggled to understand him, “to a man. He’s an ordinary man, not rich nor famous nor special in any way; but to me, he’s like - he’s like the whole fucking world. When everything feels dark and hopeless, he’s the wind beneath my wings, the only thing keeping me in the air.

“But, lately, I’ve been a dick, I’ve been a total pussy. I ran away from him, from everything that we built together and-”

Dennis wasn’t even attempting to hold back tears by this point. He stood swaying, surrounded by confused staff and several well-meaning diners; nobody quite had the heart to interrupt him, but they were all shooting meaningful glances at Mac, as though they expected him to be able to stop any of this.

“-and, Mac, I’m sorry,” he hiccuped noisily, “baby, it might have appeared to go unnoticed, but I’ve got it all here in my heart. I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it! I would be nothing without-” some merciful soul unplugged Dennis’ microphone, leaving him to sob quietly into it until one of the waiters escorted him back to the lobby.

Mac turned to his date, whose name he’d already forgotten, “so, I should probably…”

“Just go.” He said, his face sour.

Not exactly sure what he was so upset about, Mac weaved his way through the chairs and tables to the front door, leaving his date staring morosely at his back.

 

“Dennis, wait!” Mac said once he was in earshot. The harsh lights of the restaurant were even less kind to Dennis up close - Mac could see every little vein in his bloodshot eyes, and could trace the messy streaks of mascara running down his wet cheeks.

Dennis took a deep breath, “dude,” he tripped over his words, “Mac, I’m so, so sorry.”

“For ruining my date? Or-” _or for everything else?_

Dennis said nothing.

Mac was suddenly very aware of the eyes burning holes into his back, and could hear the loud muttering of the kitchen staff deciding whether or not they should call the police. Putting a cautious hand on Dennis’ shoulder, he leaned forward and said, “let’s take this outside, man.”

All it took was a nod from Dennis for Mac to firmly lead him through the door and into the cold, cloudless night.

 

Once outside, Dennis wrapped his arms tightly around himself and mumbled something about the cold - it was so jarring, seeing him act so like, and yet so unlike, the Dennis Mac knew. Mac took a step backwards and frowned, trying to assess the situation.

“Dude,” he said eventually, “what’s wrong with you?”

“What- Mac, I just stood up in front of a whole restaurant to tell you what’s wrong!”

“No, you didn’t! You went up there and gave me some bullshit compliments. If you have something to say, say it to my face!

Dennis looked down, “Mac, those weren’t just compliments; that was,” he breathed in deeply, “that was a confession.”

“Huh?”

And then Dennis was kissing Mac. His lips were wet and salty, and he murmured something against Mac’s mouth that Mac couldn’t even begin to understand. It wasn’t the best kiss, by all standards it probably wasn’t even a good kiss, but Mac still felt that familiar electricity fly through his veins, the kind he only felt on those rare occasions when Dennis was touching him. He felt Dennis’ fingertips were lightly cradling his jaw, and Mac was more than ready to melt into the ground.

Mac’s hands found Dennis’ waist, but before he had a chance to pull him in closer and deepen the kiss, Dennis pulled away; he was crying again.

“What am I gonna do?” He asked, “what the fuck am I gonna do, Mac?”

 _Kiss me again, and this time don’t stop._ Mac thought, his face numb from Dennis’ cold hands.

Dennis’ hands were knotted up in his hair, and he was hunched over as though he was about to throw up, “I wish I didn’t feel the way I do about you. I mean it.” He whispered, his face pale.

 

The ground shifted beneath Mac’s feet. This was something he and Dennis didn’t do - sure, they’d kissed before, they’d even banged a couple of times, and, of course, Mac had all but confessed his love for Dennis. But Dennis didn’t talk about feelings - it just didn’t happen. He’d would ignore everything, the way Mac looked at him, the sad smiles he gave him over the dinner table, the way he’d stop breathing for a second when they touched, if Mac did the same for him.

Mac coughed, looking around at the empty street, “I thought you weren’t gay?”

“I’m not, man, I’m-”

“Bi?”

“No! I’m straight, Mac! I’m not gay - I’m not supposed to be gay, you know? I _can’t_ be. It’s just not me, it’s not-”

Tears were streaming down his face again; these weren’t the neat tears he’d squeeze from his eyes whenever he thought someone needed empathy from him, these were messy, unstemmable. Mac itched to take a step forward and wrap him in his arms, but past experience told him not to touch Dennis without permission, not when he was like this.

“Hey,” he said, his throat tightening with the effort to speak softly, “let’s go home.”

 

* * *

  


An hour later and they were back at the apartment. Getting Dennis home had been no small feat; obviously, he hadn’t been able to drive, and Mac had taken a cab to the restaurant, sure that the night would end with him being invited back to his date’s place.

“So, what now?” Mac found himself saying as he watched Dennis collapse onto the couch, wincing as he smeared makeup on the cushions, “you know, you should probably sober up before we talk about… any of this.”

Dennis gripped the sofa, his knuckles whitening, “okay.”

“Yeah? We _will_ talk about this tomorrow, man. We kinda have to by this point.”

 

Dennis stood up, looking blankly at Mac. His face was a little less red than it had been in the taxi home, and his breathing was almost back to normal - Mac could see that some of the haziness had gone from his eyes, as well. “You going to bed?” He asked, motioning towards Dennis’ room.

“I’m gonna wash my face.” Dennis’ voice quivered a little and he sped off, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Mac shook his head and made his way into his own room. He collapsed on the bed, so exhausted that he didn’t even bother to take his shoes off. Of all the possible disastrous outcomes of the night, this was one that he hadn’t foreseen.

A small bubble floated in his chest as he remembered the way Dennis had leant in to kiss him outside the restaurant. Maybe there was hope, maybe this night would be the catalyst, and that kiss set the precedent for many yet to come.

But then he remembered the way Dennis had cringed away from him when he’d asked him if he was gay, he remembered how lost he’d looked singing into that microphone in front of all those people, so sure and yet so unsure of what he wanted. Mac knew the feeling intimately, how could he not? He knew that Dennis needed time - time that he, perhaps, didn’t have.

He closed his eyes, sighing deeply and barely registering the sound of his bedroom door creaking slowly open.

It was only when Dennis crawled into bed beside him, moving the mattress ever so slightly, that Mac opened his eyes and realised what was happening. Dennis was lying there, only inches away from him. He was staring at the ceiling, a scarily hollow look clouding his eyes, and his chest rising and falling so rapidly that Mac’s own lungs seemed to tighten.

 

“Dennis?” He said, turning to face him, “hey.”

“Hey.” Dennis said back.

“You’re sleeping in here tonight?”

Dennis didn’t reply. His hand twitched a little, opening and closing as though searching for something; Mac reached out tentatively and took it, feeling Dennis relax beneath his fingers. He didn’t pull away.

“Bro,” Mac tried, again, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna, but-”

“Please, Mac. Not tonight.” There was an indescribable weariness in Dennis’ voice that made Mac squeeze his hand a little tighter.

“I just wanted to know how long.”

“How long what, Mac?”

“How long you’ve-” Mac paused, aware of the delicate thread between them, “how long you’ve felt this way. About us and, uh, about me.”

It was Dennis’ turn to grip at Mac’s hand, “for as long as you have.”

“Oh.”

Mac’s heart was pounding and he could feel colour rushing to his cheeks. He willed Dennis to look at him; he was sure that if Dennis could just turn his head to the side a tiny bit and see the expression on Mac’s face, he’d understand everything.

Because Mac was bad with words, and this would always put him and Dennis at a crossroads. Dennis was a man of speeches and conversations and secrets whispered into the dark, whilst Mac was a man of action and gifts and long interpretive dances - he didn’t do words, he’d always relied on Dennis for that. And now they were lying together on a filthy mattress, connected, each desperately trying to communicate in a language that was foreign to the other.

“Dennis,” Mac said, his throat sticking, “I-” He tried again, to no avail.

“What?”

“I feel-” Mac’s tongue felt like lead, “I feel right when you kiss me.”

Dennis was quiet for a moment, “so do I,” he said, his voice trembling a little, “and, Mac, you of all people should know why that means I can’t-”

“Hey, man,” Mac’s free hand reached out towards Dennis, before he remembered himself and stopped, opting simply for a weak smile, “remember what you told me before I came out?”

“No.”

“You’ll feel better.”

Dennis’ face hardened and he clenched his jaw, still looking up at the ceiling, “Mac…”

“Nobody else needs to know,” Mac said softly, “it’s just me, Den.”

 

“I-” Dennis swallowed, “I’ve never felt the same way with a woman as I feel when I’m with you. You make things okay, you make me feel safe, you make me feel _whole._ And I’ve tried everything to make that stop, to make it all stop, but you’re so goddamn persistent and so goddamn forgiving. It’s all been so hard, Mac, my entire life, it’s been so hard and I’m so tired.”

There was no fight in Dennis’ voice, none of the usual anger that would have made Mac recoil. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, clutching Mac’s hand.

“I love you.” Mac said, because that was all that there was to say.

Dennis stayed silent and rolled over, finally looking at Mac; his eyes were dry but, somehow, he looked even more broken than he had when he’d been crying, “Mac, I’m-” There was a dangerous tremor in his voice that Mac knew he was never going to allow himself to forget.

“It’s alright, Den.”

“I’m gay.”

“Okay.”

 

Dennis breathed in. Mac knew that breath, it was the very same breath he’d breathed in the arbitration room; it was the breath of freedom, the first lungful of fresh air that comes after a lifetime of confinement. And Mac knew how it tasted, not sweet, but bitter and raw and real.

“Also,” Dennis closed his eyes, “I love you. I always have.”

Mac smiled despite himself, his heart brimming over, “okay.”

“I want to kiss you again.”

So that’s what he did. Dennis leant over and pressed his lips gently to Mac’s, letting go of his hand so he could reach up and cup his face; he was nervous, Mac could always tell just how nervous Dennis was by the way he kissed. He placed a steadying hand on his cheek, letting his thumb caress his still-damp skin.

Dennis stopped kissing Mac and buried his face into the crook of his neck, his hands resting on Mac’s chest and clutching at his shirt as he broke down one last time. Mac sighed, resting his chin on Dennis’ head, feeling as though they finally understood each other fully, for the first time in years.

“It’s okay,” he whispered over and over, “it’s okay, it’s okay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> as always i'm @macdenniskiss on tumblr and twitter i love all of u, can't wait to get clowned by s14!


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